The moment the intense pressure within the small confines of the tent disappeared, Anastasia let out the breath she had been holding—relief washing over her as the suffocating weight lifted from her chest.
Even so, her eyes remained wary as they fell upon the grinning female adventurer...
"..."
"Hmm? What's wrong, my lord?" Vivian mused, her voice laced with amusement as she tilted her head, noticing the lingering stare from the red-haired lord.
Anastasia continued to remain silent...
She still remembered the intense bloodlust this woman—no, this assassin—had exuded mere moments ago, and she realized that it was the same kind of bloodlust she had felt last night during the failed banquet.
And she remembered how suffocating it had been—even if it was not directed toward her and even if it had been brief—how utterly oppressive that presence had felt.
But just now... being at the receiving end of that same bloodlust was... a horrifying experience, to say the least.
